a bunch of lies... or "another load of Baloney"

So Baloney called me the other day and commented that I had not yet responded to her tagging me in a post.  "Oh Joy!" is more or less exactly what I thought, but when I started thinking about what the "tag" was asking me to do it sort of made me giggle - to be honest I've so depressed lately that nothing makes me giggle...

So here's the rub...  because one can learn so much about another person by the things that they make up, my assignment is to create fictional confessions for each of the seven deadly sins...  For the sake of you all knowing me better, here goes...

Pride:

While I am certainly proud of many things I suppose that I am most proud that my life was the inspiration for the story of "Billy Elliott".  The writers took some severe liberties in order to make the story more interesting.  For instance, the location of the story was moved from rural New Jersey to coal-mining England; they added the part about the deceased mother (which I find very moving)...  they also changed my name (both to protect my privacy and because my name has no "ring" whatsoever).  oh, and the stuff about dancing was also added to broaden the appeal.  When I was told that there was talk of taking the story of my life from the big screen to the Broadway stage I was moved to such tears that, well, I'm sure you can imagine...

Sloth:

When I was working and had more money paying for a gym membership was a breeze.  When it became obvious that I needed to work out, I picked up a membership to a great fitness club during one of their "Sales" (which is a club's way of saying "we're not going to charge you for something we shouldn't charge you for in the first place").  I was cautioned (special note:the word "cautioned" uses every vowel) that starting a workout while I was so out of shape could be harmful - I might want to hire someone.  WHAT A GREAT IDEA!  I was making enough money to do that, so I did!  I hired a guy named Philip who trained four times a week.  At first I went to every session; he was really working and my muscles always ached the next day (vicariously, of course).  After a while, and none to few people asking Philip about the fat guy who sat around the gym while he worked out, well it just didn't seem to be having any effect on my body and I wondered if hiring someone to work out for me had been such a good idea after all...

The next two are easy!

Lust:

Carol Channing!

Envy:

I envy people who have children.

Anger:

I just don't get angry - especially when I'm driving... on the highway... or behind school buses... or old people... or... most drivers are just STUPID!!!

Greed:

This is something that no one knows.  I collect Precious Moments figures.  ...really, anything Precious Moments...  those little blonde, wide-eyed children make my heart break so I buy one whenever I see one.  I frequent local garage sales for them, chipped, broken it doesn't matter.  Because I don't want anyone to know I collect them, I throw them under the house into the crawl space.  I've managed to get just the right technique so that if you look into the crawl space you don't see them...  I'm pretty sure I have all the Christmas ones!!!  

Gluttony:

This is the worst of all because I can't think of a lie that tops anything that I have actually done.  But this a great place to plug my new cookbook "Meals for Four that Two can Eat"!

I hope you feel like you know me better now...

-silly

Baloney Wednesdays (the day we met) or "Don't think of me as a stalker just because I'm thoughtful"

Holy Cow!  Can it have really been 5 years ago that I met Baloney?  I guess it can. 

For some reason, all day today, I've been thinking that it's been about that long.  She is the one who challenged me to regularly blog here; you have her to thank...

...and this is how our friendship was forged...

Our Mutual Friend (not the Dickens novel), the yoga clown, came to my desk one day and let me know that there was a new person in the group.

"We should go meet her..." she insisted.

"Why?"

"Because she's new.  We could be the welcome committee."

"Doesn't she have work to do?"

"Probably not yet."

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Lots."

"Yeah, lots...  well, I have work to do."

...and yet I went along...

She was nice, although, like me, confused as to why the yoga clown had dragged me up there to meet her.  They had met earlier in the day, (which I did not know) so this was purely an introduction which would be followed by a "what do you think" session.  

Her most distinguishing characteristic was this; she held her hand in front of her face... the whole time we talked.  

I've been told I have a stunning smile, but this was going overboard.

I checked my breath to be sure that it wasn't stale from lunch and then noticed that she had a cold-sore.  I assured her that I get them all the time and that she need not worry that I'd think anything about it whatsoever.  

The conversation went like any one of those between you and someone you'd just been forced to meet and consisted much of the insidious drive she had to make each morning to get to work.

I liked her.

I felt sorry for her (cold sores hurt and long drives to work hurt even more)

What happened that night put me on her list of "The Strangest People I know who are still considered friends".  I went to the A&P to pick up a rotisserie chicken for dinner - half for me and half for Fernando who could smell it from a mile away and who would turn his nose up at the Fancy Feast if I was picking apart a chicken - I gave in to him just so he didn't trip me up, causing me to break my neck.  As I passed the pharma aisle I thought about Baloney and decided to pick her up a tube of Herpecin DL (it's this cold sore med I use).

So, right now you're thinking, "Gee guy, what you don't know about women could fill a 200 terabyte server."

I sat with Tony that next morning (her cube was right next to his) and when she arrived I paraded into her cube,

"I picked this up for you!"

Silence

"It's great!"

Silence

"I use it all the time!"

"Umm, gee, thanks..."

You know, nothing says "Let's be friends" quite like a tube of cold-sore salve.

Sometimes in life you have those "What was I thinking" moments (I have enough for me and a whole Roman Catholic family)...  and those moments are what color our lives and serve as a reminder to the people with whom we share our time on Earth that locks were created for a reason...

I still get teased about it and when I do, I simply hold my hand up in front of my face like Gloria Swanson and we laugh until the Diet Pepsi comes out our noses...

-silly